


Chrysanthemum

by Cherry101



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hanahaki AU, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide, Unrequited Love, and it's angst, i'm sorry michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: Chrysanthemum - you're a wonderful friend~~~~~~~~Michael had been so sure that Jeremy shared his feelings, so sure, that seeing those petals shocked him.





	Chrysanthemum

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm Cherry. I've fallen headfirst into Be More Chill, and, to prove this, I decide to write an angsty short little drabble about my favorite character, Michael. 
> 
> Haha.
> 
> Sorry. In advance. If any of you lovely readers know me from the Yuri on Ice fandom, you'll know just how awful of a person I am.

The last thing Michael expects to do in that god-forsaken bathroom is cough up bloodied flower petals. 

 

After all, he had been _ so sure _ . So sure that his crush wasn’t one-sided. So sure that somewhere in Jeremy’s mind, the other boy loved him. How could he not? The shared smiles, the nights spent in his basement enjoying each other’s company, that little nervous laugh and bright eyes Jeremy shared with nobody but him… 

 

He had been so sure. 

 

_ Get out of my way, loser.  _

 

Fuck, that hurt a lot. More than Michael had anticipated, those nights he was kept up, when his anxiety played a rejection from Jeremy over and over and over again. Still, somehow, he stubbornly held onto the beliefs that  _ Jeremy doesn’t really love Christine. Jeremy loves me. He has to love me.  _

 

_ He doesn’t love me, according to these petals.  _

 

The cursed petals, that litter the bathroom floor. The petals that spew from his mouth in the most poetic way as some unknown person bangs on the bathroom door. The striped carnations, the daffodils, all speaking of something he already knows. 

 

_ My love will never be reciprocated.  _

 

Because Jeremy wants to be cool, and Jeremy wants Christine, and it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t get Christine, because Chloe and Brooke are hanging on to his every word, and isn’t that  _ just wonderful? _

 

Michael watches the petals fall mournfully. There isn’t much of a cure for Hanahaki, because the only way he can get rid of the flowers without Jeremy’s love is to get the surgery, and, and… that isn’t an option. He refuses to forget about his best friend, because who else would he have? What would he have left?

 

Better to die. At least then, he can make Jeremy feel something. Be it grief, be it sorrow, be it guilt… or even slight embarrassment, maybe pity. After all, Jeremy’s running with the cool kids now, and they’re… 

 

Not the worst people, but definitely not the best, too. 

 

Michael sinks to the floor, gripping his hair tightly as he contemplates his choices. Does he run or does he wait for death to claim him? Does he accept his fate or fight it? Choices, choices… he’s never been good at choices anyways, not in the long run. He always makes Jeremy take the lead in those video games they like, because he’s far too indecisive and forcing himself to pick just one way takes at least an hour.  

 

He doesn’t have an hour. He can’t cower in a bathroom forever. 

 

He makes up his mind. 

 

The next day, after meticulously gathering every bloodstained petal, after spending an hour arranging the petals into a somewhat visually appealing bouquet.

 

He checks his phone, one last time, to see if Jeremy’s said anything since the previous night. Not a single text, no answer to the voicemails he left in the other’s inbox. Nothing. Jeremy’s successfully cut Michael out of his life, and Michael’s going to pay the price of it. 

 

Everybody on social media is buzzing about the fire he successfully avoided the previous night at Jake’s house, and he knows this is the perfect time. With luck, nobody will even find out about this for at least another day, knowing the way the school media works. 

 

Michael fingers the knife he found delicately, sitting down on his bed with the bouquet in hand. This way, everybody knows why he chose to die. It isn’t that uncommon for Hanahaki victims to commit suicide - everybody’s heard the tales of how awful the flowers feel when being coughed up, and nobody wants to succumb to the fatal illness. At least, he doesn’t for sure. He wants to have some semblance of control over how he dies. 

 

So he carefully lays down in his bed, gingerly placing the bouquet over his chest, gripped loosely by his left hand. His right lifts the knife to his throat. 

 

_ Don’t think about it.  _

 

Michael slashes the blade across his own neck with trembling fingers. 

 

_ Goodbye, Jeremy. I’ll see you on the other side.  _

 


End file.
